


The Captain's Ache

by lancer365



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Creative liberties taken, Drama, F/F, Humor, I know Seven doesn't have X-ray vision, Massage, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Some bad language, Wishful Thinking, subtle crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22667197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lancer365/pseuds/lancer365
Summary: It's just an innocent back rub, or is it?
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway & Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	The Captain's Ache

**The Captain’s Ache**

One-Shot

Captains were supposed to be invincible, right? At least that’s what everyone else thought. And right now, sitting at her desk with her head slumped into the hands at her temples, a bothersome throbbing crept up the length of her neck to the base of her skull.

_*hiss*_

She looked up from her computer at the opening of the Ready Room door across from her. “Seven.” She leaned back, resting the back of her head on her chair; the tensed muscles around her eyes convincing her she was close to squinting. With a quick lick to her parched lips, she stared into those azure colored eyes.

“Captain the positronic relays are functioning within correct parameters. A loose chip was what resulted in the power failure on deck 2.” Seven handed a PADD to the Captain, who reached out with her right arm and pulled back with a wince. She sat forward, her hand nursing the base of her neck.

“Is something wrong Captain?”

Janeway stood, taking the PADD with a furrowed brow and moving out from behind her desk, wincing a little bit more as she tilted her head. “No, I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Passing in front of Seven her shoulder was seized. “Seven?” She went to turn around but the Ex-Borg held her still, eyes scanning over her.

“You have a muscle strain in your right trapezius, which is causing an overcompensation in the erector spinae.”

“…How do you know that Seven?” Janeway raised an eyebrow, turning her ear over her shoulder.

“I was Borg remember.”

The Captain brushed off Seven’s usual condescending smugness with a smile.

“My left eye can see beyond the subdermal layers of the human body.”

The hand on Janeway’s shoulder pushed forward.

Getting caught up in the thought that the Ex-Borg could see through their clothes, the Captain let Seven guide her to the couch beneath those starry viewports. “I thought that was the eye the Doctor replaced.” She stepped up the platform, giving a quick look to the blonde.

“Correct Captain, and he added filters. I can choose to see as a normal human would, if I want. However, the default setting of this eye sees much like it did before my ocular data processor was removed. In other words, the Doctor did not alter my major cranial connections.”

At the couch Seven’s hand pressed into Janeway’s shoulder, trying to force her down but the Captain didn’t budge. Instead, Janeway turned over her shoulder, connecting their gazes as she tried to decipher Seven’s intent.

“Lay down please.”

“What?” She raised a shocked eyebrow at Seven’s stern command. _‘ **I’m** the Captain.’_

“I can assist you, but you must lay down.”

Dumbstruck, she closed her mouth that was beginning to fall open. _‘The pain **has** been nagging at me for hours.’_ Glancing away, she shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever you say Doctor.” She acquiesced her defiance with a quip, spreading out along the turquoise cushions face down, stomach sinking into the couch as her arms folded themselves beneath her head.

Resting her chin atop her arms, Janeway looked about the room, eyes almost darting in anticipation at wondering what kind of torture the Ex-Borg planned to put her through. Maybe jamming an elbow into her back for some good ole’ Klingon homeotherapy she’d picked up from the memories of those assimilated. _‘What am I letting her do?’_ She grumbled under her breath and closed her eyes.

Just as she settled in, her eyes shot open and her startled wide gaze froze as two tender hands embraced her lower back and slid to her sides, warmth blanketing her from above. A knee grazed her left hip, and between her thighs Seven sat; the Ex-Borg’s other leg locking her in, pressing against her outer right thigh and draping over the couch’s edge.

The Captain swallowed the lump in her throat. _‘Ohh this looks really bad Katie. You better pray th—Oh…that feels good…really good.’_ Seven started at her neck and moved down; the woman’s fingers massaging her back in easy circular motions. _‘I didn’t know her fingers were that…nimble.’_

It didn’t matter that her uniform was still on. Down her right side, following the length of her spine those fingers kneaded through to her skin like a professional baker kneading dough; her body rocking back and forth with gentle sways.

“Mm—” Janeway clenched her teeth, trying to hold in any moans and groans not becoming of a Captain. When she felt that technique failing, she hid her face in the crook of her arm.

Seven's hips shifted over her thighs, inching further up, and the Captain curled her lips in for moment taking a deep breath, warding off the rising warmth throughout her body. 

“You are moving too much Captain.”

Seven’s hands came to her head and turned it to the right, so her left ear rested against the cushion.

“This might hurt. I will need to press harder in order to release the kinked muscles.”

She knew she should have cherished her relaxing reprieve, because the next moment Seven touched her…agony, pure agony, as though punishing her for enjoying the first half of the massage too much.

 _‘Holy HELL!’_ The Captain sucked in and held her breath; Seven’s fingers penetrating deep into the sore parts of her back, like probes stabbing her skin. She slammed her eyes shut, her whole face scrunching and contorting as once gentle fingers worked their way from the base of her neck down. At a particularly painful spot halfway down her back, she gritted her teeth as Seven’s fingers twisted and held the pressure. She grunted, not able to hold that in. But, a grunt in pain was better than a moan in pleasure.

“Sorry Captain.”

Seven’s softened voice filled her ear; the cooing reassurance making Janeway question the innocence of the Ex-Borg’s massage, some part of her waiting for those hands to start drifting elsewhere. Yeah, now that was a thought. In her mind’s eye she saw Seven leaning over, breath caressing her skin, hands sliding down her front as the blonde pressed a kiss to her temple—

 _‘Nope.’_ The Captain turned her head with no protest from the woman above and rested her forehead on her arm. _‘Focus on the pain. She’s hurting you not loving you.’_

_*hiss*_

_‘Shit.’_ The Captain heard one of the Ready Room doors open. She squirmed, but Seven’s ankle weighing down the back of her left knee, stifled her escape.

“Captain?”

 _‘ **Shit**.’ _The Half-Klingon’s brazen voice entered the room. 

“The Captain is here.”

Janeway grumbled at Seven’s proud response.

“Seven what are you—”

Hearing the surprise stop B’Elanna in her tracks, warmth flushed the Captain’s cheeks as she visualized the fearless Engineer’s eyes bursting from their sockets at finding her leader in a compromising position.

B’Elanna’s footsteps were muted against the carpet as she stepped up the platform. “ _I_ …hope I’m not _interrupting_ anything.”

Janeway sucked her teeth at hearing the smirk coloring B’Elanna’s voice.

“The Captain has a pulled muscle. I am attempting to release the strain.”

“Of course you are—”

“What is it B’Elanna?” The Captain turned her head to the smiling Half-Klingon, ignoring the subtle rocking of her shoulder.

“One of the Bio-neural gel packs was replaced today. Here’s a readout of the final test we ran on Voyager’s systems.” B'Elanna glanced to Seven of Nine and looked back clearing her throat, in an obvious attempt to hold it together. “And…there’s an inventory count of the remaining gel packs we have in storage.”

The Captain reached out taking the PADD, attempting to roll on her left side to read it better.

“Do not move.”

At Seven’s piercing command, Janeway huffed out an irritated sigh as the blonde pushed her shoulder back down; her arm slapping to the side of the couch with the PADD in her grasp. “Seven—”

“I’d listen to the woman straddling you. Don’t want to be assimilated, do you?”

Janeway swore she heard an under-breath chuckle from the blonde sitting on her thighs. “Lieutenant." She held up a finger. "This goes nowhere, understand? 

“What happens in your Ready Room, stays in your Ready Room. Don’t worry, I care about your reputation too.” B’Elanna turned away, heading down the steps with a comfortable, brisk pace. “Resistance is futile Captain.” She called out, leaving Janeway to smile as her Ready Room door hissed open and closed.

The assault on her back came to an end as Seven’s hands started a more forgiving massage pattern.

Bringing the PADD in front of her face, Janeway tried to focus on anything but the woman hovering over her, and preferably something work-related. With her chin atop her forearm she cleared her throat, reading through the charts, but a hand sliding down her waist made her breath hitch.

What words? What diagnostic readout? She couldn't focus on anything but the hand resting on her left hip, as Seven’s other hand continued to work at her back.

The woman’s fingers glided up to her neck with just the right amount of pressure, relaxing her muscles and relieving any leftover tension. Once that hand reached the apex of her neck, the Ex-Borg released the pressure, fingers traipsing the length of her back, teasing her body’s sensitive sensations.

That up and down motion continued for several minutes, almost distracting the tiring Captain from the hand now at her waist, slipping, curling around her abdomen.

The PADD in the Captain’s hand fell to the seat cushion as her eyes closed.

“All done Captain.”

The lifting of weight from her legs, jolted the Captain awake and she sat up, shaking off the sleep threatening to befall her. Gosh, she wanted to stay in that position—or maybe beneath the blonde—forever. _‘Wait what am I thinking? Kathryn Janeway doesn’t stay beneath anybody—but maybe just this—No. Nobody.’_

“How does it feel Captain?”

“What? How does what feel?” Her eyes shot up to the Ex-Borg standing above her with her hands clasped behind her back, noticing the brown color of Seven’s biosuit for the first time since the whole interaction happened.

“Your back.” A gentle smirk cracked Seven’s typical stoic mask, stretching into a tame but smug smile across her face.

Janeway just stared, awestruck, a shudder rushing down her spine. The Ex-Borg knew exactly what she had done, how she had flustered and riled her.

“Oh…right.” The Captain tilted her head to the left, shrugged her right shoulder, and extended her arm. “It feels great…” She kept her focus straight ahead and looked through the glass banister to her desk, fearing her eyes would betray her and roam along the blonde’s body if she glanced over. “Much better than before…Thank you Seven.”

“Let me know if that happens again. I will be happy to assist.”

 _‘Well…I do have that weird spot in my calf_ _—Oh stop it Kathryn!’_

“If that is all Captain, I must return to Astrometrics.”

Janeway glanced to her, giving a few fast nods as she waved off the Ex-Borg. “Of course…sorry for the inconvenience, you’re free to go—"

“It was not an inconvenience Captain.”

The sultry tone to Seven's voice drew a lingering gaze to the Ex-Borg, in time to catch a gentle nod and watch her saunter down the steps and out of the room; the Captain’s eyes remaining on the door long after it closed.

 _‘Wow.’_ Leaning over, elbows at her knees, Janeway deflated with a relieved sigh. She ran her hands down her face, stopping at her mouth as she lifted her gaze. _‘What just_ _happened?’_

* * *

**A.N. I have absolutely no idea why I wrote this or where this came from. I'm still working on "Self-Control". But lately, I've had a few one-shot ideas pop in my head. I have another one-shot drafted, but I didn't plan on typing it out.**


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